Don't Forget Me
by PerfectMirror14
Summary: Kendall Knight, a closet medium and homosexual, never fit in. Logan Mitchell, giving up, decided to end his pain forever. Turns out it's not that simple. The two meet again, desperate for understanding. Now, under the circumstances, they'll get to see what could have been. Through it all, Kendall will see the difference between existing and living. Kogan AU.
1. The Beginning

**So this is my new story. This story has been in my head for a year now. I have it all planned out. It will be ~about 15 chapters, depending on how I decide to split things up.**

**Again, I have this all planned out. I warn you now: this story will be VERY emotional and angsty.  
**

**I would like to thank **_LaurenBlack13_** for being my beta. She's knows the whole story and is very excited for me to finally sit down and write this damn thing. I pity her for knowing the whole story :)  
**

**I would also like to thank **_gleechild_**. Again, her talks have encouraged me to write again.  
**

**My life is kinda busy, but I will try my hardest to write as quickly as I can.  
**

**If you have any questions, feel free to ask me in a review/PM me. But, this chapter does have a lot of foreshadowing. You're not meant to know the whole story right now.  
**

**Thank you for reading. This truly is my baby.  
**

* * *

Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening rain that was constant throughout the autumn season of Duluth, Minnesota. The early morning air sent shivers down the spine. Some leaves were already changing from forest green to sunburnt orange.

Kendall Knight, noticing this on his way to school, thought that this was odd. It was only the second week of school – September 13, 2011. Technically, it wasn't even fall yet.

Ignoring the light tug in his stomach, he parked his car in the student parking lot at Duluth High School. He turned the ignition, turning off his red Neon. Before he got out, he looked over himself in the rearview mirror. His blond locks were messed up and in his eyes. The green orbs were glazed over, stating the classic look of the typical stay-up-forever teenager. But hey, at least the plaid shirt that he was wearing was clean and not from his bedroom floor.

Reluctantly, he got out of his Neon and walked towards the building. The dreary weather framed the school, not helping its reputation with the students – including Kendall. It's not that he didn't like school; in fact, though he wasn't in the Top 10, he excelled in his studies. No, school to the blond was just a waste of time. He could be out in the world, making music, helping others… but no. He was stuck in this building for seven hours a day, five days a week. But, it was his senior year. He planned on working hard to look like he actually cared. Like always.

Kendall didn't know what he was going to do after graduation, but he did know one thing for sure: he was getting out of Duluth. This town held too many bad memories for the blond to even start thinking about.

The rain didn't help.

His best friend, Dustin Belt, was waiting for him in the senior hallway. "Hey!" he called out.

"Hey yourself," Kendall replied as he opened his locker – the same one for the fourth year now. "You need to shave."

"And you need to check your phone more often," the raven-haired boy retorted, leaning against the metal row. "We still practicing tomorrow?"

"We practice every Monday and Wednesday, ," Kendall said, grabbing his things for 1st hour. "And tomorrow is Wednesday."

"We didn't practice on Monday. That's why I'm asking." They started to walk down the hall, starting on the large square path of the four main hallways.

"That's because you wanted to take Lucy out on at date," the blond stated. "That was not my choice."

"Well, didn't someone wake up on the wrong side of the frickin' bed?" Dustin spit out, looking the other way.

They were silent as they rounded a corner.

"I'm sorry, that was kind of rude," said Dustin after a moment.

"Nah, it's okay," Kendall replied. "I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Yeah, but I did take Lucy out on a rehearsal night."

They ended up in the senior hallway again. More people were starting to show up, whether or not they wanted to.

"Speaking of your girlfriend…" Kendall mumbled as he saw the red highlights getting closer.

Lucy Stone smiled when she approached the two. "Hey guys."

Dustin wrapped his arm around her slim waist. "Hey beautiful."

"And I'm leaving!" Kendall said, spinning on his heels. "See you at lunch!"

The couple laughed as they said their goodbyes.

His friendship with Dustin was odd. They'd been friends for about a year now, joining to play guitar together. They bickered quite often, yet they apologized quickly. Their friendship was nice, but it didn't go beneath the surface. They rarely talked about personal stuff. Dustin didn't know Kendall's dark past, or his dark future. He didn't know Kendall's two biggest secrets.

In fact, only one person did.

When Dustin and Lucy started dating, she joined in and they became a small band. Right now, they called themselves Smith Boulevard.

Kendall didn't hate Lucy like Dustin thought. And he wasn't jealous that Dustin had a girlfriend and he didn't. He just hated public displays of affection. Couples could make out and have sex in the privacy of the bedroom. They didn't need to be sucking face at school.

Okay, maybe there was a little jealously. He had never been in a relationship before. Sure, he had been asked out before, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to his partner.

The blond stared at his surroundings has he walked. Posters were already advertising Homecoming; the theme was _Written in the Stars_. Who came up with dance themes? Did they always have to sound so cheesy? Kendall scoffed and continued.

Four was the number of times he got shoved in the hallway. It wasn't out of hate; people just didn't care. That was one of the things Kendall hated about this school. You had your friends and that was it.

When he reached his 1st hour, he saw that it was mostly empty. Usually, the blond never got to the classroom this early. He just didn't want to be the third wheel with Dustin and Luce.

The faint tug in his stomach pulled again, stronger than it was earlier. Typically when this happened at school, it was because of someone else's mediocre pain, like a breakup. He tried to push it away, think of something else. That usually worked.

People slowly started coming in. That's when Kendall noticed something was off. A certain brunet was not in his seat yet. It wasn't like him to miss school.

But, he shrugged it off and looked at the board. Sometimes Mr. Morgan put the agenda on the board. If he didn't, that was his way of announcing a pop quiz. He didn't today.

Kendall groaned and leaned back in his chair. It was going to be a long day.

The final bell rang and the chair was still not filled. Kendall was about to ponder why when the teacher interrupted his thought.

"Today, class, we will be learning about the Byzantine Empire," Mr. Morgan said, standing in front of the AP World History class. "It's actually pretty interesting."

Kendall looked down at his notebook. Mr. Morgan was a great teacher, one of the only good ones in this school. But right now, it was too early to think.

He also had that something – someone – on his mind.

A blond girl, Jo Taylor, raised her hand. "Mr. Morgan, we can't learn today. Didn't you hear?"

The middle-aged teacher rolled his eyes, but looked confused. "Didn't I hear what?"

_Staff and students, please report to the gym for a school meeting_, the secretary, Ms. Wainwright, said over the PA system. Her voice sounded… strained? Stressed?

All 26 students in the classroom got out of their seats and left. When the blond got into the hallway, everything was crazy. Whispers were flying around everywhere.

"_Is it true?"_

"_He was so smart!"_

"_I never thought that he would be suicidal."_

What? Kendall thought. Suicidal? Did someone in their school commit suicide?

Getting into the gym was like a million ants trying to go in the same hole at the same time. When he finally did get into the room, he scanned the bleachers for his friends. Spotting them in the middle of the senior section, he quickly made his way over. After he sat down, he asked Dustin and Lucy, "Do you know what's going on?"

Dustin just shook his head. You could tell, though, that he had heard the talking.

"Everyone, settle down," came the voice of the principle, Mr. Rocque. "I want to get started." He was standing in the middle of the gym floor, voice not as demanding as it usually was.

It didn't take as long as it normally did for Duluth High School to get quiet. Everyone wanted to know what was going on.

"Thank you." He cleared his throat. He was a big guy, but he looked really uncomfortable. "Now, some of you may have heard rumors, but this is the truth." He paused again. "One of our students, senior Logan Mitchell, passed away last night. He committed suicide by overdosing."

Everything stopped.

"Now, Logan Mitchell was one of the finest students this school has ever seen. No one knows why he chose to leave us – he left no note, no reason. But I think we should give him a moment of silence."

The gym had never been as silent as it was in that moment.

Logan Mitchell _was_ the finest the school had ever seen. He was extremely smart and at the top of the class.

He also happened to be Kendall's long-term high school crush. He was the missing person from World History class.

At that moment, the blond couldn't breathe.

"Thank you," Mr. Rocque said, breaking the silence. "We're closing school for the rest of the day. You can go home. Classes resume tomorrow."

The electricity of emotion shocked his stomach, feelings from everyone around him overwhelming him. His own emotions weren't helping.

Some people got up, but most people stayed where they were. Kendall just looked down, staring at his Vans. He was glad that Dustin and Lucy didn't move. He didn't think he could move. He couldn't think. All he saw in his head were the scraps of memories he had with Logan.

The first time Kendall saw him – freshman year – was the first time that he had had a boner in school. It wasn't the last.

All throughout high school, he admired the smart boy from afar. They talked here and there, but Kendall could never form coherent sentences.

He felt a pang in his stomach, full of guilt. Why didn't he talk to him more? Why did he have to be so shy?

Another stomach twist hit. The last time he saw the brunet was yesterday. Logan had dropped a book on his way out of the school, and Kendall had picked it up. They exchanged a few words, but nothing more. He just couldn't form anything smart to say. Logan was just so attractive.

Was.

All it took was one second to change is to was. Death was unusual like that – Kendall knew that best of all.

After a while, Dustin shifted. He wanted to leave, all of the sadness too much for him. But it didn't look like Kendall or Lucy were moving anytime soon.

Kendall wanted to move; he was on the verge of letting go – and he was not crying at school. Nevertheless, he couldn't. All he wanted to do was think more of Logan. This used to be a wonderful pastime, sometimes resulting in a little fun.

Things change fast.

His voice caught in his throat. Electricity twisted his stomach. He was going to throw up. Shit. The blond had to leave, get to the bathroom.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" he asked in the direction of his friends; he didn't make eye contact. He also didn't wait for an answer.

Kendall made his way out of the gymnasium, head down. He had to get to the bathroom; he was going to throw up. Thankfully, there was a set across the hall. He swiftly opened the door and ran into a stall.

After he emptied all that was in his stomach from breakfast – orange juiced burns when it comes up – he leaned against the wall. His own emotions rarely coincided with others. And if they did, he could control how much came to him.

Running his hands through his hair, Kendall sighed. Sweat clung to his skin, making him shiver. His hands were shaking. He needed to calm down.

Closing his eyes, the blond took a deep breath. He imagined himself in a forest, the clouds dark. Strong winds bend the trees, flipping their leaves up. Rain is pouring down, soaking everything around him. But he is not wet. The rain is streaming down around him, as if he's in a glass bubble. His eyes follow the trails of water, staining the chamber he's in.

Kendall felt his heartbeat slowing, his breathing evening out. That technique, which he had learned on the internet, really helped him through stressful moments. It didn't take the pain away, but it made it bearable.

"Kendall?" a voice called out, echoing through the bathroom.

Kendall head snapped up. He got to his feet, flushed the vomit down, and exited the stall.

There, waiting for him, was Carlos Garcia.

"Kendall?" the Latino asked again. "Are you okay?"

The blond shrugged. "Yeah, totally."

Stepping forward, Carlos replied, "I mean really. I locked the bathroom door."

Sighing, Kendall runs his hands through his hair again. "I just threw up." He turned to the sink to clean himself up.

"Too many people at once?" he suggested while getting paper towel from the dispenser. He handed it to his friend.

Kendall, taking the paper towel and wetting it, wiped his mouth. "Yeah, and my own."

Carlos embraced Kendall in a hug, squeezing tight. "I know how much you liked him."

And this was true. Carlos was the only person in the world that knew everything.

Carlos was the only human to know his first secret: he was a sensitive. He was the only person outside his family to know his second secret: he was gay.

Kendall, hugging back, choked out, "I will not cry at school."

"Oh, Kendall," Carlos whispered. "You don't have to be strong." He looked into the green eyes. They were gleaming, but not one tear had spilled over.

"I'm not crying at school," the blond repeated.

Sighing, Carlos pulled away. "So what are you going to do for the rest of the day?"

"Well, I don't have to work until 4…" Kendall answered. "It's only 9. Maybe go home? Hang around town? Go for a walk?"

Nodding, Carlos understood. Kendall never said the true name for what he did. He didn't like stereotypes. "Well, I'll be home if you need to talk tonight." He waved, then left the bathroom to leave the blond to his own thoughts.

Kendall looked in the mirror. His eyes were puffy, but nothing had leaked out. His skin was pale and clammy. His hair was an absolute mess. Maybe he really did need to take a walk.

…

As Kendall drove to the park, he thought about Carlos. Carlos was not only his one true friend, but he was also his neighbor. He had been there when he started seeing spirits. He had been there the past two years, the worst years of his life.

Without Carlos, Kendall wouldn't be here.

Trying to think of something else, he parked his car at the edge of Duluth City Park. This place always seemed to calm him down. There was a jungle gym, pavilions, and a river at one end. There was a walking trail on the edge of the forest that led to Duluth Cemetery.

That was Kendall's ultimate destination; he just didn't like parking there. And, he wanted to see the beauty of life before he traveled down the path to despair and death.

The sun was still low in the sky. Dew still clung to the grass. Kendall was usually never here this early – school – but he enjoyed the peace. There were a few moms with strollers and elderly people spread out, but the park was calm.

After pulling out his mp3 player and selecting a playlist, the blond started down the walking trail. The leaves were a mixture of jade and sunset, proving that fall was coming earlier than normal. The farther Kendall walked, the more the leaves turned orange, almost like a beacon. He chuckled at the irony.

He reached the end of the path, the trees farther spaced. Rod iron fencing surrounded the large area with a large sign above the gates displaying 'Duluth Cemetery'. The path led through the gates and branched off into smaller ones. Kendall took the one farthest to the right, always careful to avoid the hill on the left side.

As he walked, he could feel the residual static energy in the air. Even after a spirit crossed over, some of their energy lingered.

When he reached the newer plots near the back of cemetery, he saw what he was subconsciously looking for – a spirit. After he gained his abilities, Kendall felt that he needed to help spirits cross over. Along the way, he'd learn things and write them down in a notebook.

He put his mp3 player away, ready to approach her. Thankful that he remembered the notebook in his pocket, he slowly made his way over to the spirit. As he got closer, he noticed that she was female, probably in her 20's. Blonde hair was pulled tight into a pony tail. She was wearing purple sweats and jogging shoes. She was leaning against a tombstone, eyes closed, head pointed towards the sky.

"Hey!" Kendall called out, stopping a few feet away from her, still on the path.

Her head turned, eyes snapped open.

"Hey," Kendall repeated, stepping a little closer.

"You… you can see me?" She asked, her voice coarse. A deep gash down the side of her face was now visible.

Nodding, Kendall closed the gap between them and sat down next to her. "Yes, I can see you."

"But…"

"My name is Kendall, and I'm a sensitive," he stated, reciting his introduction and beginning his protocol. "What is your name?"

"Megan," she answered hesitantly.

"That's good, you know your name," Kendall smiled. "Do you know that you're a spirit now?"

Megan nodded, her body tensing. "Yes, I know I died."

"Do you know how you died?"

She took longer to answer – as Kendall expected – but she nodded again. "I was in a car accident. "I… We were driving and…"

"Who was with you?" Kendall prompted. Getting them to talk about what happened was the first step to closure.

"My boyfriend, Josh," Megan replied. "He was driving… We were… we were hit."

"When was the car accident?" Sometimes Kendall watched the obituaries, but he hadn't really since school started.

"A week ago," was the answer. She sighed, leaning her head against the stone again. "I've tried so long to contact someone… I tried so hard at my funeral…"

"You went to your funeral?" Kendall asked, surprised. Most spirits didn't know they were dead in time, or were too scared to go. "That's great, actually."

Megan's brows furrowed. "How is going to my own funeral a great thing?"

"The ultimate goal for you now is to cross over to the other side," Kendall answered. "But the only way to do that is to get closure from your old life."

"Well, how do I get closure?" Megan sighed. "How will I cross over?"

Kendall sighed back. "That's the only straight answer I don't have. It's different for each spirit. The main goal is to accept that you passed away. Accept that your family will move on. Accept that _you're_ ready to move on."

"How do I do that?"

"Again, you have to figure that out on your own," he answered. "But once you have closure, you can cross over."

"How will I know when I'm ready?"

Kendall was used to all these questions. "You just… know. Most spirits see a bright light and a tug in their stomach to go towards it. I've seen the light, but it's very faint because it's not for me."

She nodded. "This is a lot to process…"

"Yeah," Kendall agreed, placing his hand on her knee. "But you have some abilities now to help."

Megan's eyes went wide. "I feel that. You're not going through me."

Smiling, Kendall said, "Yeah, we can feel each other. I can touch spirits because I'm sensitive. But back to your new abilities…" He pulled out the notebook from his back pocket and flipped to a certain page. "These are gonna take some practice, but you will be able to do these."

Megan took the notebook from him and started reading them out loud. "Walk through solid objects… Move objects… Transport… Wait, transport?"

Chuckling, Kendall replied, "Yeah. You can transport to a different place. Actually, this practice will be a great way to say goodbye for now." He stood up and gestured for her to do the same.

"Okay…" she said, standing up. "What do I do?"

"Imagine were you want to go. Picture all of the surroundings, all of the objects." He closed his eyes as if to demonstrate.

Megan did the same, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I know where I want to go."

"Put yourself in that spot. Imagine you are truly there." Kendall opened his eyes to see Megan slowly fading away.

"Bye for now, Megan."

…

When Kendall got back in his car, he called his mother.

Jennifer answered on the second ring. "Hi, Kendall. I was wondering what your plans for today were."

"Yeah, that's why I called," he replied. "I think I'm just gonna go to work. I'll eat lunch and dinner there."

"You sure?" his mom questioned. "You won't get paid until your shift starts."

"Mom, you know I love working at Helping Hands."

"Yeah, I know." Jen laughed. "A teenager, who doesn't plan on going into medicine, works at a nursing home."

"Call me crazy!" Kendall said, faking a laugh. She wouldn't understand why he wanted to work there. "I'll be home later."

"Bye, Sweetie!"

He was about to drive off, but the blond decided to call Carlos, too. He needed to let him know that he was doing better. Well, at least he was distracted.

Carlos answered even faster than his mother. "Hey, Kendall."

"Hey, Los. I wanted to let you know that I'm going to work now, so text only."

"Did you go to the park?"

Kendall smiled. Carlos always knew how to ask the question without saying what he did. "Yeah. I met a girl, Megan. Car accident."

"Aw, poor girl."

"She'll be a quick crosser, I think," Kendall said. And he did think that. She was slightly scared, but she died an easy death – as weird as that sounds.

"Well, that's good," Carlos replied. "I'll text you later, after work?"

"Okay. Bye, Los."

…

"Oh look, the fag's home," was the first thing Kendall heard when he hit the top step of the stairwell. He turned to face James Diamond, his stepbrother. There were many adjectives Kendall could use to describe James, but 'douche' was always the first one that popped in his head.

"Just leave me alone, James," Kendall said, turning his head and walking away.

"Aw, don't be so butt hurt about everything," James sneered, following him. "I'm just trying to be polite."

Silently, Kendall walked the rest of the distance to his bedroom. Saying something would just make it worse. The rest of his family accepted that he was gay. Why James always made fun of him, he would never know.

"Come on Kenny, don't act like a dick," James argued, then he laughed. "Oh wait, you'd like that too much."

Okay, the silent treatment wasn't working.

"Shut the fuck up, James. Not today," With that, Kendall slammed his door, the sound ringing through the house.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game!" James called back before walking to his own room.

Shaking, the blond made his way over to the bed. He was glad that his mom was now happy. He was glad that Katie now had a father figure. But James Diamond was the worst person ever. Kendall didn't get how one person could be so rude, so arrogant. He didn't get it from Derek, his father. Derek tried to be fatherly towards Kendall, but Kendall never accepted it. No, James must have gotten it from his mother.

Flopping down on his bed, Kendall sighed. Today was officially on his Days That Royally Suck list. Only three other days were on that list, so he wasn't doing horrible.

Great. Now he was thinking about his past again. He rubbed his head in his hands, only to realize that he was crying.

Deciding that it was okay to finally let go, Kendall pulled his knees to his chest and let his thoughts envelope him. He thought of Megan, of every spirit he had helped so far. He thought of the past, of how he had gotten to where he was at that exact moment.

He thought of Logan Mitchell.


	2. Discoveries

**Okay, so this is going to be a really long Author's Note. But a lot needs to be said!**

**First off, thank you SO MUCH for all of the positive feedback! I was really nervous about publishing this story. I'm so glad that people like it! Thank you for all the favorites and alerts! I'd like to give a special thanks to **_Mr. President 64_**_,_ **_klolo8_**, **_KSchmidtluvr24_**, **_ilovecarlospena93_**, **_gleechild_**, **_KEALY KAMES_**, **_LoveSparkle_**, **_Candid-Canoe_**, **_LittleWing_**, **_LaurenBlack13_**, **_I Love KL_**, and **_ialmostdo_** for taking the extra time to review! These reviews are fueling my fire.**

**Speaking of **_LaurenBlack13_**, she has a new story up called **_Penny For Your Thoughts_**! It's so adorable! I love my beta.**

**So I'd like to give a little backstory on how I came up with DFM. Some of the abilities that Kendall has are based on personal experience. I'm nowhere near Kendall, but I am slightly sensitive. The tricks he uses are based off the ones I learned from my family.**

**The reason the story is set in 2011 is because I came up with the idea in February 2012. I needed a timeline, so I used 2011 because Sep 2012 – Nov 2012 didn't happen yet. Little did I know it would take me this long. Ah well.**

**One day in February of 2012 I was sitting in my world history class. For some reason, I looked over at the door to the classroom. The thought "What if there was a ghost standing there?" came into my head. Then, "What if it was a classmate?" came next. And then, "What if it was my crush?" came. The idea spiraled from there. Later that hour, the door slammed shut. "It's a ghost!" my teacher joked. I freaked out. He later explained that because the classroom was near the door, drafts shut the door – but the idea just stuck with me.**

**I apologize for this chapter taking so long. I was sick, I'm in a lot of extracurricular activities, I'm a Junior in high school, I take my ACTs on Tuesday, blah blah blah. My spring break is coming up, so hopefully I'll get some major chunks done!**

**So now, I give you the next chapter of Don't Forget Me!**

* * *

_Blackness surrounded him. He could see nothing; his eyes were open, but it was as if they were closed. Where was he? _

_There were voices all around him, but he couldn't make any of them out. They seemed to be getting closer, but he had nowhere to go. Louder and louder they became, erupting his ears with the white noise. Suddenly, one broke free. _

"_Kendall Donald Knight! How dare you joke like that?"_

"_I'm not joking!" he called back, turning around frantically. Those words escaped his lips without his knowledge, almost like he was forced to say them._

"_This is no laughing matter!" the voice screeched. "Tell me you are lying!"_

"_But I'm not!" he involuntary sobbed. "I promise you!"_

"_I will not have a gay for a son!"_

_A shock went through his system, causing him to double over in pain. He cried out, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm sorry!"_

Kendall awoke, his eyes snapping open. Taking a deep breath, he sat up. His blankets were twisted all around, some completely off the bed. Sweaty hair clung to his face. He took another breath, the dream playing through his head. Nightmares were a normal occurrence for two years now, but he rarely had ones about… him.

"Turn your damn alarm off!" James' voice called though the door.

Only then did Kendall realize that yes, his alarm was going off. He swiftly reached across his bed and turned it off. Today was going to be a long one.

When he got in the shower, Kendall knew he needed to do a body and mind cleansing. That nightmare had shaken him with words from the past. He didn't like to be reminded. As the water ran down his body, he closed his eyes. He pictured the droplets trailing down, carrying all the toxins away. The soap scrubbed it all away, leaving him a fresh canvas. The bad memories and residue washed down the drain.

Kendall also felt that he needed to punish himself – he let his emotions get the best of him. Sighing, he grabbed his razor from the shelf and brought it closer to his skin. Dragging it along his wrist, he watched the crimson line form.

He only did this punishment in the shower; it was the easiest way to clean it. And, the soap added a prolonged sting.

After getting dressed for school – long-sleeved shirt to hide the freshest of the lines – Kendall made his way downstairs for breakfast. Ever since his mom married Derek, she insisted that the family ate breakfast together. He understood her intent, but it was another reminder.

When he reached the dining room, he only saw half his family. Katie, his 12-year-old sister, was eating cereal. Derek was reading a newspaper – probably not the Duluth Record. He worked for the local newspaper, so he liked to keep tabs on other papers in the area.

"Morning, Kendall," his mom greeted as she walked in, setting a plate of toast down.

The blond nodded for his reply, sitting down in his usual spot next to Katie. He quickly made himself a plate of toast and eggs.

"Oh," Katie said, looking up. "Kendall, I have a student council meeting after school so you don't have to pick me up."

"Okay," Kendall replied. "But don't let being president of the 7th grade get to your head." It was true, Katie loved her power. For such a young girl – who had already gone through many things – she was very mischievous.

"The other people on council are stupid, though," his sister complained. "They won't do anything if I don't boss them around."

"Katie," their mom scolded, "It's middle school student council. What is there really to do?"

She was about to retort back, but just then James walked in. Katie wasn't really a fan of him, either.

"Dad, can I borrow the car this weekend?" James asked as he sat down.

"Morning to you too, son," Derek laughed, setting the newspaper down. "And no, you can't. I'm going north for that PR interview, remember?"

"Ugh," the brunet sounded, reaching for an apple. "Jen?"

"You know I work on weekends, James," Jennifer replied. She worked as the receptionist at the local real estate agent office.

"You could always ask Kendall for his car?" Derek said, but it came out like a hopeful question. Everyone knew of the strain between the two boys, they just didn't know why.

"No," both boys stated.

Kendall bought the car and kept it up by himself. No way was James borrowing his hard work. And James would never borrow "the fag's" car.

"Ready to go?" the blond asked Katie. He was done with family time.

…

"Shh!" Mr. Morgan pointed to the speaker on the ceiling. "You should know by now not to talk before and during morning announcements."

Kendall rolled his eyes as the class quieted down. This class may be AP World History, but there were a lot of preps and jocks who didn't like to shut up.

He tried not to look at the empty seat, but he couldn't help it. It was a lighthouse in the dark night, calling his eyes to it. It held the energy, the emotion. It held all the empty words that should have been said.

Kendall thanked the heavens that the announcements decided to finally come on. He needed to drown out his thoughts with the sound of Camille Robert's voice.

_Good morning staff and students. Today is Wednesday, September 14, 2011. The kitchen will be serving spaghetti with meatballs and chef's salad. Happy birthday goes out to Troy Bennett and Logan Mit – Oh._

If the class wasn't dead silent before, it was now. Today was Logan's birthday? He killed himself two days before his birthday?

Kendall knew he immediately had to block the emotion around him. He could feel it building as the announcements continued, but the minds were thinking. His mind was thinking. Closing his eyes, he thought of his scenario, of the forest.

He opened them only when he felt that his own emotions were in check. Blocking others was the easy part. Blocking himself still needed some practice. Looking around, Kendall saw that everyone was still in shock over the announcement.

"Well…" Mr. Morgan said, turning back to the white board. "Let's continue our chat about the Byzantine Empire."

Kendall couldn't concentrate after that, not that that surprised him. In fact, he went through the rest of his morning classes with a blanket of fog around his brain. Calculus was the hardest, as that was the other class he had with that curtain brunet. It was Kendall's hardest class, and he wished for the millionth time that he had asked Logan for help.

Even saying that name in his head made his heart hurt. Kendall tried to push that thought away as he headed to the cafeteria for lunch, but it wouldn't go away. That electricity in his stomach started, causing him to worry. His emotions were letting his guard down, letting others come in.

The tingling continued as he got closer to the cafeteria, like he was getting closer to the source. He was sure he was going to find a crying girl or a fight. He rounded the corner, ready to see the source.

There, at the owner's locker, stood Logan Mitchell.

_The _Logan Mitchell that had committed suicide two days ago.

Kendall blinked a couple times, sure that he was suddenly going crazy. Then he remembered that he could see spirits. The idea of seeing Logan's spirit never crossed his mind. It was always a possibility, but he had never considered it.

Knowing he needed to take this opportunity, Kendall continued to step forward. "Logan?"

The brunet's head snapped up, searching for the source of his name. He was sure it was just some student talking about his exit from life, but he wanted to know who.

"Logan?" Kendall repeated, getting even closer, making eye contact.

Logan's eyes went wide. "Kendall? Kendall Knight? You can see me?"

The blond nodded – heart smiling from being remembered – and said, "I need you to follow me to the library." He turned on his heels, walking away from the seemingly empty locker area. He didn't want people to think he was crazy, and the library had privacy.

Kendall didn't have to look behind him to know that Logan was following him; the electricity was as strong as ever.

When he reached the library, he went straight back to the secluded area of the shelves. Maybe no one would notice his wandering the shelves, talking to himself.

Sighing, Kendall turned to face Logan. He was about to speak – but for the first time, he took in Logan's appearance. His features were the same, square and strong. But things were off. He was pale with dark bags making a home under his eyes. Brown eyes were bloodshot.

He was dressed up: grey shirt, silver tie, black vest, black pants. He dressed up to kill himself?

Clearing his throat, Kendall was ready to speak. "My name is Kendall, and I'm a sensitive."

"I knew the first part," Logan said. "Sensitive, huh? So you can see ghosts?"

"Spirits," Kendall corrected. "I find the term 'ghost' degrading. But back to you. You know your name."

"Logan Hortense Mitchell," the brunet nodded.

"And you know how you died," Kendall asked, but it came out like a statement.

Sighing, Logan answered. "I killed myself."

"Well," Kendall said, running his fingers across a row of books, "It's good that you're aware. That makes things easier."

"Makes what easier?" Logan looked away.

"The ultimate goal for you now is to cross over to the other side," Kendall answered. "But the only way to do that is to get closure from your old life."

"Cross over?" Logan asked "Like in the movies?"

The blond chuckled. "Kinda. Most spirits see a bright light and a tug in their stomach to go towards it. I've seen the light, but it's very faint because it's not for me."

"Where do I go then?"

"I don't really know," Kendall shrugged. "But the light only comes when you have complete closure."

"Closure?" the brunet looked up.

"Yeah," Kendall nodded again. "You have to accept that you died, and that the people you left behind are going to move on."

Logan let out a short laugh. "I believe that's what the suicide was for."

Kendall was taken back. No spirit was this casual about death, even suicide cases. "Something is clearly holding you back. Maybe family?"

Another laugh. "Again. Suicide."

"Well, something is holding you here," Kendall snapped, "and you can't cross over until you resolve it." He never talked to spirits like this, but a spirit had never talked to him this way. Logan was different in so many ways.

When Kendall looked back at the brunet, something had changed. It was subtle, but it looked like realization hit Logan. He was stuck here – the place he tried to leave – until he resolved whatever was holding him here.

"I'm sorry," the blond whispered. "I understand that this is overwhelming."

Logan just nodded, looking back down.

"Maybe you'd like to go to work with me after school?" Kendall suggested. Sometimes, he brought spirits along to get ideas. Elderly people were always the easiest to cross over.

"Sure," he replied softly.

"Okay, just meet me after school at my car," Kendall smiled. "It's the red-"

"Oh, I know which vehicle's yours," Logan smiled back. And then he faded away.

Kendall just stood there. "Well, it's good that you know how to transport already," he said to air.

…

The rest of the day, Kendall thought about how to handle this case. Never before had he worked with a spirit that he knew when they were alive, save the nursing home. He had also never had a crush on one of the elderly he worked with. All around, this situation was completely new and overwhelming.

As he walked to his car, he gave himself a mental pep talk. The most important thing at this point was helping Logan cross over. That little – big – crush he had needed to disappear. Besides, this Logan was different than the one he thought he knew. Then again, the Logan he thought he knew never would've committed suicide.

When Kendall got to his car, he realized that Logan was already waiting for him. "You learned how to pass through things, too?"

The brunet shrugged. "I was bored."

"Uh huh," Kendall said as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm sure there are some tricks you haven't mastered yet."

"Well, you'll have to teach me them," Logan smirked.

"Oh, I will."

"Promise?"

Kendall looked at Logan, then back at the road. "I promise."

The rest of the drive to the nursing home was quick and silent. Kendall pulled into his usual parking spot in the back.

"You work at Helping Hands?" Logan asked. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"I don't know, actually. Most people are confused at the idea of a teenager working at a nursing home," Kendall replied, grabbing his bag.

"Do most people know you see spirits?"

"No," the blond replied swiftly. "Most don't. Now, walk directly behind me. Normal humans can walk through you and it feels weird to them."

They walked into the building together and weaved through the small, tight hallways. Kendall stopped when they reached the locker room.

"Wait here," Kendall whispered, then went in to change into his scrubs. He changed quickly, not wanting to let Logan loose in a place like this – at least not until they talked to someone. There was so much energy here, it was almost tangible. When he came back out, he could tell Logan could feel it, too.

"I want you to meet someone," the blond said, guiding Logan back near the front. They stopped when they reached room 2J.

"Why here?" Logan asked softly.

"Yeah, he's in here," Kendall just continued and opened the door.

Logan stepped inside and took in the room. It was a small, private room. The walls were a soft pink, with simple pictures hung on the walls. Flowers adorned the bed that was centered next to the window. There was an elderly woman in the bed, sleeping soundly. Sitting next to the bed was an older man. Logan could tell that he was a spirit.

"Hello, Mr. Bitters," Kendall said calmly, walking forward. "How has she been today?"

The man looked up, happy to see Kendall. "Oh, the usual. Doctors say it should be any day now." Then he noticed Logan. "Who's this?"

"Mr. Bitters, meet Logan," Kendall introduced them to each other. "Logan passed away two days ago, and I was showing him some things."

The man knowledgeably nodded. Every so often, Kendall brought him someone to meet.

"Logan, that's Mr. Bitter's wife," Kendall explained. "When she passes away, they can both cross over."

"I can feel it," Mr. Bitters added. "This is the last step – waiting for Irene to come with me."

Logan just nodded, not taking his eyes off Irene. Things were slowly sinking in. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I passed away three years ago," Mr. Bitters answered. "Last month, Irene was admitted."

"Wow," the brunet breathed.

"It's different for every spirit," Kendall sighed. "Some, it takes seconds. Others… it takes years. It just depends what's holding them back."

"And you know she's the one you're waiting for?" Logan asked.

"I feel it," Mr. Bitters stated again.

"Well, I need to get to work," Kendall said, backing up. "Logan, you're welcome to walk around. Just don't touch a normal."

When Kendall shut the door behind him, he smiled. Maybe this is what Logan needed to come back to Earth. Now he could actually start working on crossing him over.

…

"Do they know?" Logan asked as Kendall pulled up to Dustin's house. He decided to tag along to band practice.

"No, Dustin and Luce don't know," the blond answered. He reached behind the seat and grabbed his guitar case.

"What do you call yourselves again?" Logan just laughed when Kendall told him he was a part of a band.

"'Smith Boulevard'," Kendall replied. "It's the street Lucy lived on when she was younger."

"Creative."

Kendall just stuck his tongue out. "Come on. I don't want to be late to my own practice."

When they made it down to the basement, Dustin and Lucy were already down there, warming up.

"And he returns from the morgue!" Dustin exclaimed when he saw the blond.

"Ha," Kendall pretended to laugh. "Good one."

"I'm sure I could get you a job at Happy Frappe," Lucy said, taking a seat at her drum set.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Kendall replied. "I'm perfectly okay with working at Helping Hands."

Logan watched as the three of them warmed up and started playing. Despite the awful name, they were good.

"_I'm in love with you baby  
So I'll put it in a love letter.  
It's yes-no, not maybe.  
Can we get in the same boat together?  
I've been goin' crazy when I think about you,  
Cause the hardest thing I'll ever have to do is tell you."_

Kendall's eyes were closed as he sang, pouring full passion into every word.

Logan was captivated.

…

"So Dustin and Lucy didn't seem very supportive of your job."

Kendall and Logan were in Kendall's room. This was the first time he let a spirit in his room. Normally spirits parted at night, wanting to spend the evening watching their family. But it was clear that Logan had no intention of doing that.

"Like I said before," Kendall said, "most people just don't understand."

"Does anyone understand?" Logan asked, looking around the room.

Should he tell Logan? Kendall thought. This was all new to him. Never before had he let a spirit in like this. Sighing, he pointed to the window. "See the house across the street? Carlos Garcia lives there; he knows I can see spirits."

"Carlos Garcia?" Logan questioned. "I've never seen you hang out with him at school before."

The wording caught him off guard. Logan used to watch him at school? "Yeah, he's the only one that knows. And yeah, we don't really hang out at school. We have different friend groups."

"Fuck the status quo," the brunet sighed. "That's what causes drama and kills happiness."

The silence that followed was tangible.

Then, Kendall remembered something. "Happy Birthday, Logan."

Logan shook his head. "I died when I was 17. I'm still 17."

"Oh, whatever," Kendall laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's still your birthday."

Logan looked up, eyes wide. "I can feel that."

Kendall nodded. "Yeah. You're very cold."

"Cold?" the brunet questioned, staring at the hand.

"You feel solid, but cold," he explained. "It's the energy."

Logan, reaching up to lay his own hand on top of Kendall's, sighed. "Tomorrow's my funeral."

The blond blinked. "Are you gonna go?"

Logan looked out the window. "I don't know."

"This may be a step to crossing over."

"I'm scared, okay?" Logan admitted. "Is it weird to see your own, lifeless body? Your own family mourning?"

"I wouldn't know," Kendall sighed. "Want me to go with you?"

"Please," Logan breathed. Then he looked back at Kendall. "I should get going… It's getting late."

"Okay," Kendall nodded. "What time tomorrow?"

"It starts at eleven." Logan gave a little wave, then faded away.

Taking a deep breath, Kendall sat down on his bed. He never went to a spirit's funeral. He never did this, he never did that… his whole day had been filled with those statements. Why was Logan so different?

The answer was there; he just didn't want to admit it. Admitting it would be wrong because it could never be pursued.

But Kendall felt it.

What was he going to do?


	3. Acceptance

**This one was hard to write, mainly because of the funeral. I spent a lot of time looking for poems and prayers to match the characters, so please don't skip over them! Pay close attention, because a lot of it will be rehashed later in the story.**

**My lovely beta** _LaurenBlack13_ **couldn't beta it because of the holiday weekend, but I hope it's still quality!**

**I'd like to thank **_LaurenBlack13_**, **_ilovecarlospena93_**, **_I Love KL_**, **_Candid-Canoe_**, **_LoveSparkle_**, **_Ieeerr_**, **_gleechild_**, **_squoctobird_**, and**_ Mr. President 64_** for your lovely reviews! I know it takes me a while to update, so thank you for sticking by me! Your kind words inspire to write more and please you! But on that note, just remember what I warned in the first chapter...(evil laugh).**

**Also, why do I end every chapter in Kendall's room at night? Ugh.**

* * *

"Mom?" Kendall asked, knocking on her bedroom door. The second Logan left, he went to go ask her if he could go to the funeral.

But now that he was asking, slight panic went through him. Yeah, Logan is – was – his classmate, but he never talked about him before. Why would he be asking to go to his funeral?

The door opened, revealing a tired Jennifer. "Yes, honey?"

He took a deep breath, trying to pull at his brain for a lame excuse. "You know that kid, Logan Mitchell?"

Jennifer nodded. "Yeah, he passed away."

"Well, his funeral is tomorrow," Kendall added, "and I wanted to go."

Leaning against the door, his mother questioned, "But isn't it during school?"

Kendall heartbeat picked up. He obviously couldn't tell her the truth. "Yeah, but it'd only be for two hours…"

"Oh, wait!" him mom laughed gently. "Your school called today saying it would count as school related as long as parents called in, proving that's where you are."

He tried to keep his sigh of relief to himself. "So I can go?"

"Sure," his mother smiled. "Just remind me in the morning to call. Now go to bed, it's past your curfew."

"Mom…" Kendall groaned. "I'm almost eighteen."

"You still need sleep to function." She stepped forward to embrace him in a hug. "Goodnight, sweetie."

…

Even though Kendall set a later alarm, he woke up early. There were too many things on his mind to get fully rested, anyway. Sighing, he got up and headed to the bathroom.

Ice cold water hit his skin, reality slapping him with every drop. Cold showers always brought Kendall back to reality. But this reality had him going to his dead crush's funeral. He wasn't fond of this reality.

After going through his closet, Kendall had narrowed it down to two outfit choices. He had only been to one funeral before, and he blocked those memories from his mind forever.

Shrugging, he grabbed his black pants, grey shirt, and silver tie, and headed back into the bathroom to change. As he was getting dressed, he felt the room dynamic change.

Logan was here.

He quickly tucked in the grey fabric and wrapped the tie around his neck. When he got back to his room, Logan was slowly panning the room.

"See anything interesting?" Kendall asked, shutting his door.

The brunet looked up from the bookshelf. "Not really, actually."

Kendall's eyebrows cocked up. His room was slightly boring, but it was still his. Insulting a bedroom was personal. "What makes you say that?"

Logan gestured around him. "Everything's so… boring. You have no posters on the walls, no pictures." He pointed to the bookshelf. "Those books are the boring ones on the 'college ready' list."

"Well, yeah," Kendall shrugged, "I would like to be 'college ready'."

"Boring," Logan stated.

"I thought you were the top of our class?" Kendall questioned. "Weren't you super smart and stuff? I thought you would like boring. You wore _sweater vests_ to school."

"That's not me," Logan mumbled, turning away.

Kendall groaned inwardly. He knew by that statement and tone not to push it. Logan would tell him what happened when he was ready. But he really wanted to know why Logan was so frustrating.

"So if you're done insulting me…" Kendall said, changing the subject, "let's get you ready."

Logan turned back around. "Me?"

"You're not wearing the clothes you died in to your own funeral," the blond laughed. "That's just weird."

"I can change my clothes?"

"Told ya you didn't know everything," Kendall laughed. "Yes, you can change your clothes. What I see is how you want to be seen. Change how you want to be seen."

"So I just imagine myself in different clothes?" Logan asked. He closed his eyes for a moment, but nothing happened.

"It takes some practice. I know it helps to do it in layers, not the whole outfit at once," Kendall suggested.

Logan tried again, closing his eyes. Slowly, all his clothing, save his boxers, disappeared.

Kendall tried not to let his eyes wander, but he did notice something strange. There was dried blood on Logan's left arm, near his elbow. Did that have something to do with his death? Mr. Rocque said he overdosed, but with what?

Logan's body was also more defined then the sweater vests let on. Kendall turned away when he felt a blush form on his cheeks. Checking Logan out was way crossing the line.

Soon, Logan was in a different outfit, eyes open. "Okay, so that was cool. Any other tricks I should know?"

Kendall walked forward, adjusting Logan's tie. "In time. Now, you ready to do this?"

Logan nodded, but Kendall could see the slight fear in his eyes.

…

The entire ceremony was being held at the grave site. Even though it was a beautiful day, Kendall was sure even normal people could sense the heavy feeling in the air.

As the two walked closer to the site, Kendall sighed happily to himself, thankful that Logan's site was far away from the hill.

There were about fifty students from DHS in a section, most of them from the class of 2012. Kendall saw Logan slightly smile at this, but it quickly disappeared when he spotted his mother.

Kendall nodded to Logan, wondering what he was going to do. Logan just nodded back and followed him.

The blond joined the student section, choosing a seat next to Camille Roberts. Her and Logan were close, being in the same advanced classes together.

Kendall turned his attention back to the brunet – who looked more upset by the second. Maybe this was a bad idea. At least the casket was closed.

But it was too late to leave, as the pastor was coming forward, calling everyone to sit down.

"Lord Jesus Christ, we thank you for all the benefits you have won for us, for all the pains and insults you have borne for us," the pastor stated, starting the opening prayer.

"Most merciful redeemer, friend and brother, may we know you more clearly, love you more dearly, and follow you more nearly, day by day.

"Amen."

"Amen," the people repeated.

"Today, we are here to celebrate the life of Logan Hortense Mitchell," the pastor said. "If you open your programs, you will see the lyrics to the first song."

The music started playing as Kendall quickly opened the program. When he saw what song it was, he snorted. But this was Logan's funeral, so he sang along.

"Morning has broken,  
Like the first morning,  
Blackbird has spoken  
Like the first bird;  
Praise for the singing,  
Praise for the morning,  
Praise for them springing  
Fresh from the Word."

Logan gripped his hands, making a fist. Kendall wanted to ask what was wrong – more wrong than being at your own funeral – but there really was no subtle way to do that.

"Thank you," the pastor said when the music stopped. "We will now hear from the mother of the deceased, Joanna Mitchell."

Both of Logan's parents – Robert was the father, he learned from the program – stood up. Joanna took the microphone with her shaky hands.

"Hello, everyone," Joanna said. "I first want to thank everyone for coming. Logan would be happy to see all of you here for him."

Kendall knew right away that she wasn't going to make it.

"I will always love my Logie." She continued, pulling out a tissue and wiping her eyes. "God took him from me too soon, but I know God works in mysterious ways. He has a plan for my son. I just wish the good Lord would have waited a little longer."

Kendall instantly picked up something off about what she was saying, but he just shook his head. She did know that Logan took his own life, right?

"I found this poem that I would like to share," she whispered.

"If tears could build a stairway,  
and thoughts a memory lane,  
I'd walk right up to heaven,  
and bring you home again.  
No Farewell words were spoken.  
No time to say good-bye.  
You were gone before I knew it,  
And only God knows why."

She wiped her eyes again.

"My heart's still active in sadness,  
And secret tears still flow.  
What it meant to lose you,  
No one can ever know.  
But now I know you want us  
To mourn for you no more,  
To remember all the happy times  
Life still has much in store."

Kendall's prediction came true. Joanna started sobbing. Robert led her back to the chairs. The pastor finished.

"Since you'll never be forgotten,  
I pledge to you today,  
A hallowed place within my heart  
Is where you'll always stay.

God knows why, with chilling touch,  
Death gathers those we love so much.  
And what now seems so strange and dim,  
Will all be clear, when we meet Him.  
I knew you for a moment."

As he listened, the blond looked over at the boy beside him. Logan was still visibly upset, but now anger was the dominate expression. Even though his mother's pain was real, her words seemed… rehearsed? And he still wondered about the absence of suicide.

"Death is a mysterious working of our Lord," the pastor stated. "Even though Logan left us too soon, we should be celebrating life. We should be celebrating Logan's entrance into heaven. I will now read Psalm 23."

"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.  
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;  
He leadeth me beside the still waters.  
He restoreth my soul;  
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.  
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me;  
Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.  
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;  
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

The pastor let his last words ring before continuing. "We will now open the casket for a final viewing."

Kendall watched with wide eyes as ushers came and opened the casket. There was Logan Hortense Mitchell, as still as the object he rested in.

The Logan next to Kendall went rigid.

"Please come and say your final goodbyes," the pastor said, "and join in singing 'Amazing Grace'."

Logan – the one next to Kendall – suddenly stood up. "Fuck this shit," he muttered and disappeared.

Kendall coughed, surprised by Logan's reaction. It must be surreal to see yourself in a casket, but Logan's choice of words were what bothered the blond. Nevertheless, He stood up and started singing.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,  
That saved a wretch like me...  
I once was lost but now am found,  
Was blind, but now, I see."

As he walked by, Kendall looked at the body one last time. Whatever happened to the innocent child died with the body. The Logan he now knew was not the Logan his family praised.

"T'was Grace that taught  
my heart to fear.  
And Grace, my fears relieved.  
How precious did that Grace appear...  
the hour I first believed."

…

"Why would she do that?" Logan exclaimed, startling Kendall.

"Who?" the blond asked, closing his book. He didn't know when he would show up again, so he tried entertaining himself with his 'boring' books. The sun was setting, but Kendall's room was already dark.

"My mother, the narcissistic bitch," Logan answered, beginning to pace the room. "She completely ignored what I wanted, like always!"

"Whoa, slow down," Kendall said, standing up. "Start from the beginning."

"You were there!" the brunet cried out. "You saw how she acted. It was like I was hit by a drunk driver or murdered!"

"Yeah," Kendall shrugged, "I noticed."

"I killed myself."

"What, you wanted them state it?" Kendall asked.

"They pretended that it was some tragic event that they couldn't prevent," Logan stated. "They pretended that they weren't the cause."

The air around them was suddenly heavy. Kendall wanted to ask more questions about Logan's statement, but he knew now was not the time. "You said that she ignored what you wanted?"

Logan sighed. "The only thing I left them was funeral instructions, what poems and songs I wanted. They completely ignored that."

"Well…" Kendall sighed back, "what did you want?"

The brunet turned to look out the window. "I wanted one poem and one song. That was it."

"What was the poem?"

"It's called The Dash," Logan answered. "But I don't know who it's by."

Kendall quickly grabbed his phone and started searching. After a moment, he thought he found it. "Can I read it out loud?"

Logan silently nodded.

"I read of a man who stood to speak  
at the funeral of a friend.  
He referred to the dates on her tombstone,  
from the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth  
and spoke of the following date with tears,  
but he said what mattered most of all  
was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time  
that she spent alive on earth.  
And now only those who loved her  
know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,  
the cars…the house…the cash.  
What matters is how we live and love  
and how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard.  
Are there things you'd like to change?  
For you never know how much time is left  
that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough  
to consider what's true and real  
and always try to understand  
the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger  
and show appreciation more  
and love the people in our lives  
like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect  
and more often wear a smile,  
remembering that this special dash  
might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read,  
with your life's actions to rehash…  
would you be proud of the things they say  
about how you spent YOUR dash?"

After he finished, Kendall silently locked his phone and set it down. "Why did you want that poem read?"

"I wanted to share my lesson," Logan answered. "My dash was ruined. By sharing my story, maybe I can save someone else."

Nodding, Kendall asked, "What song did you want?"

"'The Parting Glass'," Logan answered.

"Hey, I know that one!" Kendall smiled. "Hand me my guitar."

"You don't have to play it," Logan shook his head, but reached for the instrument.

"I think I do."

Sitting down on the bed, Kendall received the guitar. Their hands briefly touched, sending that electricity down Kendall's spine. He didn't know if it was from Logan being a spirit or his buried feelings. Maybe it was a combination of both, set out to destroy him.

Kendall took a deep breath and strummed a few chords. He hadn't played this song in a while, but it was one of his favorites.

"Of all the money that e'er I had,  
I've spent it in good company.  
And all the harm that e'er I've done,  
Alas it was to none but me."

The blond closed his eyes, feeling the music dance on his fingers.

"And all I've done for want of wit  
To memory now I can't recall.  
So fill to me the parting glass;  
Good night and joy be with you all."

When he finished, he slowly opened his eyes. Logan had come closer, inches away from his face. "Logan, I-"

Kendall was cut off by Logan connecting their lips. Mind going completely blank, Kendall kissed him back. This is what he wanted. This is what he'd always wanted. Logan's lips always looked so soft and kissable.

The brunet let out a soft moan as he wrapped his arms around Kendall.

That's when Kendall's mind exploded. He quickly pulled away, pushing Logan hard. "Stop."

Logan tried to keep his balance, almost falling off the bed. "I'm sorry, I assumed you were gay."

The blond shot up. "We can't do this. I can't do this." He turned to Logan. "I saw your body go into the ground today."

Logan shrugged. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I went to your funeral," Kendall continued. "You are dead. This is wrong. I should not have liked that."

"So you are gay?" Logan questioned.

"Goddamn it, Logan!" the blond exclaimed. "I've wanted to be with you since freshman year!"

"So you do like me?" Logan asked, standing up to match Kendall.

"I did!" Kendall declared. "Yes. I did like you. But now…"

"What?" Logan whispered, coming closer.

"You. Are. Dead," Kendall stated, separating each word.

"But you can see me," the brunet claimed. "You can touch me."

"This will never work."

"You don't know that until we try," Logan tried to reason.

"Your main concern should be crossing over," Kendall cried out. "And that should be your only concern."

Logan reached forward and wiped his thumb across the blond's face. When he pulled it back, his digit was wet. "Oh, Kendall."

Kendall slumped back down on the bed. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he whispered.

"But I do," the brunet responded, joining him once more. "I've always wanted to be with you."

"This is wrong," Kendall stated again, but didn't protest when Logan's lips found his. He welcomed them. Even though he knew he should be fighting, this was all his heart wanted. Logan had declared his want. They had a mutual want.

But this was so messed up.

Kendall pulled away again, but gentler this time. "Your main goal should still be crossing over."

"And it will," Logan agreed. "Let's just explore this."

Kendall nodded, leaning in again, heart and head at war.

What did he just agree to?


End file.
